Some die young
by arrowheadflyby
Summary: "I'll tell your story if you die...I'll keep you alive the best I can" Scenes I think should have been a part of 'The Shot in the Dark', 8x15. Might get slightly AU though I will try to stick to the episodes premise as well as I can. Cannon ships.
1. You Better Hold On

**So basically, I was kind of hoping for a more…Personal look into this episode, and it didn't come the way I wanted it to. Granted, it had some moments. Actually, a lot of moments. I was just looking for more then a one hour episode could provide, basically. So heres my shot at it. I may put in some scenes from the episode or may skip over. I don't own Bones!**

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"Please," I whispered through gritted teeth. "Don't let her die…God, Jesus…If you're listening please…Don't let her die,"

This request in and of itself seemed reasonably selfish, and the own small amount of doubt filled my brain.

'It's Ash Wednesday soon, isn't it? Start of Lent? Self denial and prayer for repentance, for the God that died for your sins, correct? And yet here you are, a faithful Catholic, and God isn't helping you. You did everything you could! You were willing to die for your country, you go to mass every weekend…You love your country and God. And yet he's abandon you,'

I must push this thought back. It's ebbing on my mind, but I can't keep thinking it. Instead I mutter prayer after prayer, hoping it will work. The prayer I said for that boy those weeks, maybe months ago, pops into my mind.

_That's a battlefield prayer, but I'm mostly a soldier so it seems to fit._

And yet that mixes with more words, more angry gestures.

_Oh, so I'm a bad mother?_

"No…" I whisper, tears falling down my face. "That's not what I meant…"

What did I mean? It'd just been a stupid argument, nothing more. I hadn't expected it to go that far. I was just….Fed up. You get fed up with things like that. But I'd take it all back now. We could do whatever she wanted for the rest of our lives…Dear Jesus, I'd do anything for her. She's all I have, her and Christine…

_There's more than one kind of family, Bones._

When that thought pops into my head, I jerk up. It's been one and a half hours since we came here, and every minute feels piercingly slow. And one small thing after another pops into my head.

Nobody else knows. Nobody but Cam.

I don't want to leave…I feel as though I'm glued to my seat, unmovable. Something digs into my mind, however, and I know I have to call them.

First on the list was obvious enough. I tried Russ first, hoping that maybe if I told him he could pass it along to Max. However, this came up as a fluke. Voicemail. Losing patience quickly, I snarled.

"Your sister is in the hospital, Russ. Get a hold of me right away. I fucking mean it," I stated before slamming my phone shut. I fingered the other phone in my pocket, Bones', and sighed as I checked through her contacts. Hesitating on Max's number, I pressed it quickly and held it to my ear.

It was three in the morning. I wasn't expecting an answer. However, Max picked up within a few rings. The man barely sounded tired.

"Tempe. What are you doing up so early?"

I bit my lip, trying to suppress a slight shutter. It hardly seemed fair. He sounded so…Hopeful. The man who had any time of day for his kids. Would I do the same thing? Of course. Maybe that's partially why I felt so much for this man. Or perhaps it was my own inner grieving coming to surface.

"Max. It's Booth. Bones…She's in the hospi…Hospital," I said, trying to sound concise and direct, like she was. However, it cracked and I bowed my head for a moment.

"Booth? What!? What the hell happened?" I could hear the panic and anger in his voice, ready to be displayed full out and could almost feel the tremors through the phone.

"There was…What happened is…Bones…Bones got shot, Max. She needs her family. Please," I begged, though I know that he's likely already going to his car, getting in, and starting the ignition.

"Where the hell were you? You're supposed to protect her!" he growled.

"We had a…" I heard the click of his phone shutting off, and the last word died off. "Fight," before I slouched against the wall.

I pride myself on being a strong man. The army makes strong men, and the Rangers do lead the way. Leaders need to be strong, not show emotion. However, right at that moment, I felt tears run down my face, plastering to my coat along with her blood. Her blood was on my hands, I thought. Literally. Figuratively.

Fumbling with the phone, I decided I needed to call one more person. Or couple, perhaps.

The phone itself seemed to hesitate as I pressed the call button and held it against my ear.

"Angela…I need you to get here as soon as possible…Please."

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Angela POV

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We have no more money…Though, I started as an artist. I've only had money with Jack, and even then it wasn't important. My father had money, but after I left I had none. I aspired to be great, but money was never the issue. Sure, I needed my bills to be paid, but I lived in a modest apartment. And while I struggled, it was never the first thing on my mind. Struggle makes for grand art.

So I wasn't overly worried when Jack told me we drained our accounts. I would have been more worried if he'd chosen the money over the lives of those children.

Why was I thinking of all of that? Because in the end, I want to prove a point. Money doesn't mean anything in the long run. Human dignity is more important. Life is more important.

I was having a very nice dream when my cell phone went off. Jack and I were back in Paris, having the time of our lives if you know what I mean. Michael-Vincent was sleeping soundly, though I still had an ear out for his cry.

I awoke to the sound of my phone, and reached over to check who was calling. Brennan. I blinked for a moment and then answered.

"Sweetie, it's three thirty in the morning. What's wrong?"

It takes a moment for the voice on the other end to respond, and when it does, I can hear the obvious hesitation.

"Angela, it's Booth…I need you to get her as soon as possible,"

The plea in his voice wasn't like I had heard before, and for a moment I tried to keep my head straight.

"Studly, where are you? Why do you have Brennan's phone?"

"I'm at the hospital…Bones….Shot,"

The word rolled over me and I had to cover my mouth to keep a loud gasp from coming through. However, the tears did start to fall and I had to shake Jack and hand the phone to him.

He looked dizzy with sleep before he looked at the phone and then to me, before taking it.

"Ello?"

I didn't watch Jack. I couldn't. It was too hard to breath right now. I closed my eyes and started to get dressed, oblivious to my husbands voice on the other side of the room and the loud sobs that emitted from my mouth.

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**Reviews are great but mainly I'm writing this for myself and anyone else who wants to read it! I just felt like the episode was lacking a little bit of something, though I still enjoyed it thoroughly, and it did very well for such a short time span. I'll probably write more soon! **


	2. There's More Than One Type of Family

**Spoilers! Just a warning from now to this point forward, if you have yet to see "The Shot in the Dark", there will be spoilers. And there may be spoilers for future episodes. Just fair warning! I do not own Bones! Have fun reading!**

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_Whatever's next? We'll handle it._

_We always do-Temperance Brennan_

The mere thought of losing her destroyed me. It makes my heart race, my mind shatter. So as I sit on the chairs, my head in my hands, all I can think of is this.

What in Gods green earth will I do if I lose her?

There was a lot of blood. Not unlike the amount of blood Corporal Parker lost on the day he left this earth. That's all that anyone could say. She's lost a lot of blood. I knew that one could only go on so long without a certain amount.

The sound of doors swishing open barely catches my attention. It registers, though I ignore it. However, the sound of my name in Cams voice makes me stand.

Almost at attention, I look at her.

"She's stable,"

And I want to cry out for joy, but I suffice for a hug and a sigh. It seems as though every fiber of my body has calmed for a moment, until her words make their way back to me.

"Her heart stopped. Twice,"

I pull away suddenly.

"What?"

The looks in Cams eyes are sad, unsure. She isn't sure how to proceed. However, it seems as though she has no pity. I wonder what it must have been like, in there. Bones was with me when I got my surgery…

_Booth…I'm not a medical doctor._

_But you're a genius. That's good enough for me._

I feel sick. I want to catch the bastard that did this to my wife, my Bones, but the look in her eyes tell me otherwise.

"You're place is here, with her."

"Right…"

I want to call the baby sitter for Christine, to make sure my daughter is doing fine as well, but I can't get enough energy to even pull out my phone. Instead, I watch the door until it opens, and she comes out.

"Bones…" I whisper, eyes clouding with tears.

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Angela POV

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The ride to the hospital was almost entirely silent. We'd called my father to take care of Michael-Vincent. He'd been in town for a car show, and while Jack's always been slightly afraid of him, he's still my dad. And he understood.

Jack tried to start a conversation a few times, but each time it fell short. I could see the own cloud of worry and pain draped in his eyes, though there were no tears. Clouding over my vision, the tears that I had held in for a few brief moments started to fall again.

_We can't take anything for granted, can we?_

No, no you couldn't. Because everything changes too quickly.

We'd met by coincidence, stayed in contact for money and a chance to go to Paris, and became best friend…How? I can't answer that. It seems impossible, we're nothing alike. And yet, here I was, wanting to ball my eyes out.

She could be dying. She _was_ dying.

And everything that I'd once held so dear, for granted, was falling through my fingertips, and I felt…Sick. Sick with grief. Perhaps not the same as Booth, perhaps not the same as one day Christine may feel.

Stop it! I command myself. Nothing's going to happen to her. Christine with still have her mother…

Jack parked the car and then tried a smile.

"Everything's going to be okay, Angie. I promise. What have we done so far that we couldn't make it through?"

I bowed my head and tried to keep myself from crying more, but the tears kept falling as though a steady rain. What have been through?

They were buried alive.

Booth was stuck on a boat that was doomed to explode.

Booths tumor.

Booth being shot.

A million things ran through my head and I shook them off, willing them to go away. What would be after this, if she survived? What more could our odd family go off of?

And if she didn't survive?

How would we?

This is life, I remind myself. But that isn't fair. Life isn't fair, but life usually doesn't have you dodging bullets every few seconds. Everything was too dangerous. Yet, wasn't I the one that thrived off of it? The danger, the fear, the adrenaline?

This isn't what I want, though. Roller derby would suffice if I really wanted action.

We made our way into the hospital, walking through the hallways with a quick step. Jack put his hand on my arm.

"Hey. Slow down, Angie. She isn't going anywhere," he whispers.

"You don't know that," I state back, before starting again. I couldn't let him see my face, not right now. When we finally made it to the waiting room, I look around, confusion sweeping through my body. For a moment, I am stunned, unsure as to why Booth isn't here. I stand there for a moment, eyes darting around.

"Hey, Angie. Over here," Jack states softly, pulling on me lightly and nodding towards a hospital bedroom. I blink and let him lead me before I saw Booth in the window.

He was holding her hand, whispering something that I could swear sounds like, "I'm sorry, Bones", again and again. I bite my lip and debate on whether to go in, and when I decide to do so, I sit next to him with room for Jack on the other side.

Booth never looks away, doesn't even seem to notice my presence. When I lean over and fold my hands together, I can hear what he's saying.

"I'm so sorry Bones…You're a great mother…Please…Just…Come back,"

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**Soooo yeah! Thanks for all the reviews thus far guys! I'm having a really good time with this, and hopefully ya'll are enjoying it too! I'll hopefully get to a lot more people later. I'm hoping to explore Sweets reaction because it was notably lacking in my opinion. However, he is a shrink, so I suppose that could have something to do with it. Have a great day, guys! I'll be writing more soon, hopefully!**


	3. It's Been a Privilege

Hodgins was the first to leave. His cell phone vibrated and he looked up rather suddenly, startling a crying Angela, before he walked quickly out of the room and started towards an exit. When he finally got to the door, the cell phone was on its last play back before he opened it.

"Yes? What is it you need?" he said angrily to the phone, feeling his own annoyance at the caller.

"Doctor Hodgins? Is that you?" he heard on the other end of the line. Cursing himself, he shook his head.

"Yes, it's me. Sorry Cam. Look, me and Angie just got to the hospital, and-"

"How's she doing?"

"How do you think?" he snapped, before snapping his own mouth shut. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Sorry. Just…Tired. And worried."

It takes a long moment for the woman on the other end to respond and, when she does, it's in a softer voice.

"Look, I understand how difficult this is. And if you want to stay, I understand but…I could use some help down here." Theres a long pause. "Please," she added.

"…_Dr. Brennan…It's been a privilege…"_

The pause was even longer as he blinked, considering. In one aspect, he should be in there. But then again, what good was he doing? He would do more good in the lab, with Cam, doing what he needed to do, doing what was expected of him, and trying to figure out what had happened with the Brennan.

Who hurt her. Their friend.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes. Tops. Juts let me tell Angie…"

"And Hodgins?"

"Yeah?"

"Get back some of that old anger. We're going to need it."

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After telling Angie, leaving his keys with her incase she needed to go somewhere, he hopped a cab and road silently. The cab driver, a usually chatty man, took one look at Hodgins and decided to be silent for the ride.

It was so damn funny, Jack though. Because for so long, he'd simply respected her. She was accomplished, he couldn't compete with her. Not really.

" _I graduated top of my class, Rhodes scholar, the youngest member inducted into the Academy of Physical Sciences, but she still makes me feel like a cretin.__ "_

He laughed under his breath, ignoring the look from the driver.

Things had changed when they'd been trapped in that car together. They thought they were going to die. She'd had so much damn faith in Booth…

_No offense, __we are out of air. We don't know if our message got out, much less if anyone understood it, and we are buried underground. What you have is faith, baby_

The look she'd given him would have been priceless, if only he wasn't so sure they would die. He'd been terrified. He loved Angela, she'd never know. He would die with this woman who he'd only just really gotten to know.

Weeks later, she would stop him. He'd be working on the same piece of metal, and when she came in, she knelt next to him.

'I was trapped in a narrow space once. Before this, I mean. I thought I was going to die then, too.'

He'd looked up suddenly, watching her carefully.

'I was put in the back end of car…A foster family…They were angry…I didn't mean to drop the dish I did…I…Just…It was hot. And so they put me in there. It was a lot longer then we were in that car, but I wasn't nearly as rational back then, and I had no way of getting out, not theoretically, not truly…I did get out. But I was scared. For days. And then on a trip to Iraq, identifying bodies, I was captured by an opposing force. They thought I was a soldier. It was dark…It felt like a cage. And if I'd have tried to escape, I'd have died. The place where I was held, it was captured by Americans not much later, but I was purely afraid…I wanted revenge…I wanted someone to hurt like I was hurting,'

'Why are you telling me this?'

'Because. Booth said you had to offer up something to someone you love. And we share something now, we're a part of each other because of what we went through…We're a…I'm unsure if theres a correct word for what we are. Dr. Hodgins.'

'Family,' he whispered, smiling at her. 'Families the word you're looking for, Doctor Brennan.'

She got a confused look on her face before she seemed to clear up.

'Family. Perhaps. We're all a family.'

"Yeah, Doctor B. All a family." He whispered to no one in the cab, savoring the way it felt.

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_Sorry for how short it is! I was hoping to do more but I thought this would be a good way to end. Hopefully I'll update tomarrow or the next day! Thanks for all the kind reviews, guys!_


	4. I Hurt Too, Part 1

**Before we start, I want to get this out of the way. I did use Hodgins voiceover from "The End in the Beginning". I figured it may make a cool premise for another chapter. So, now that that's out of the way. I don't own Bones. At all.**

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_Violent death, murder, it sends out shockwaves. The closer you are to it, the greater the shock._

'I read this once. In her book. She let me read it after I woke up from that damned surgery, from that tumor being taken out of my skull. Something anthropological about it, trying to help me remember. I don't know. I can't tell you much about that time. I really can't.

'I don't even know why I'm telling you this. I believe in God, I believe in Jesus…But I don't know what to believe in anymore. I'm scared, God…Fuck, I'm scared.

'You put me through some crazy stuff in the desert…And then you put me back here, with a crazy forensic anthropologist, and you tell me that I love this woman. I tell you that can't be right, but you prove it to me again and again. Because it hurts to be away from her. It stings.

'And then you mock me. You give me a child, and you give me a girlfriend, and we fight…And then you try to take her away from me? I know there has to be a reason…And I'll find out what it is.

'But don't take her away from me…Please…'

_You know that thing where, you ask for the strength to change the things you can, the courage to leave the things you can't and the wisdom to know the difference?_

Booth looked up, holding her hand softly and stroking the top of it. Angela had gotten up and left for a few minutes, calling Hodgins to check on him. The murders, the death, the pain…It had all been something for him to figure out. But now, as he sat here, he wondered if it was worth it. If it was worth pain and struggle.

He hears the occasional murmur of her heart, an extra beat, and he perks, hoping that perhaps she is waking up. But no avail…Theres probably some scientific reason that he hears these things, but he has no one to ask. He longs to talk to her, to have her listen. To have her respond back. Because while he has spoken to her, whispered to her, told her he loved her…These things seem vein and unimportant in the long run. She probably doesn't hear him. How far lost is she? As far as he had been? Or further?

Where the hell is Max?

He knows the answer to this. He managed to get his car banged up. Booth didn't ask for the details, for he feared his anger may get him kicked out, though he longed for that anger. Anger was controllable, unlike the situation. You could beat the bastard who made you angry. He didn't know who did this to Bones, he couldn't beat them. His hands had little help for him now.

Yet he grips her hand, strokes it lovingly, meaning to whisper more words into her ear. The eyes of a sniper grow weary, and sooner or later he drifts in and out of consciousness, but his ears are always open. The mere change in heart beat awakens him every few seconds. He feels his heart speed up, slow down, nervousness and exhaustion ebbing on him.

"You should go home, Booth. Just for a little while. Go home," Angela asks of him. "See Christine. Go. For just an hour."

Booth doesn't want to do this. For in leaving, he's missing the chance to see her. He hasn't left her side for longer then a ten minute period. And even then, he has to fight the urge to run back.

What if she wakes up?

Or what if the more daunting, fearful thing happens?

What if her heart stops again?

What then?

Yet Angela somehow manages to coax him, telling him she'll call if anything changes. She'll manage this one more time after Brennan wakes up, but they do not know this yet. So far, they're focused on her waking up.

"Go home, Booth. Then go see Christine. For a second. Tell her you love her. And then come back. Brennan will still be here."

If only they could both know that.

* * *

_A storm approaches. It is still over the horizon, but there is lightning in the air. Are either of them aware of the gathering turbulence? Can they feel the crackle of electricity in the wind? Or are they aware of only the power that they generate between themselves?_

Sweets had been taking care of Christine after the babysitter left. The news had shocked him, to say the least, and he was still worried when time came through. He looked at the young child, and bounced it up and down, hoping to calm her a bit.

Christine seemed half afraid as well, aware of what happened. Of course, he knew that wasn't true. Children can't really comprehend death and suffering until a much later age. And while the child was smart, he knew that she didn't understand everything that was happening.

Perhaps that was part of it. Not understanding. Why am I here with Uncle Sweets, why isn't mommy holding me? Why isn't daddy holding me? Where are they?

Again, a child couldn't comprehend this. Yet, he saw it in the babies eyes. Young, eager. Happy to please. Yet, there was fear there, as well.

"It's okay, Christine….I'm scared too. Big Uncle Sweets is scared, too," he whispered to the child. She slowly managed to fall asleep and Sweets laid her down in her crib before making his way back downstairs. When his phone rang, he answered quickly.

"Doctor Lance Sweets. What do you need?"

"Hey man…Can we get you into the lab ASAP? We need your help in this case." Hearing the distinct voice of non other then Doctor Hodgins, Sweets sighed.

"I'm taking care of Christine…"

"Daycares open, man. Please. We need you."

"It's open after this happened?"

"Different floor, man,"

"Look, I'll be over, but I need to talk to you, alright?" he asked, grabbing his car keys and walking back upstairs, getting Christine ready to go.

"Sorry, kiddo…" he whispered, though the baby fell asleep almost immediately after Sweets put her into her car seat. Thanking his lucky stars for that one, he started on his way to the Jeffersonian. When he parked, he cradled Christine and brought her to the daycare.

The woman expressed her apologies for what had happened, and Sweets smiled, nodding them away. "Her, ah, Grandfather might be in later to pick her up…" he stated before walking upstairs.

When he made his way into the lab, he realized that Hodgins certainly hadn't been lying when he said they needed him. The place was a mess, common crime scene. Granted, he couldn't do much, not right now, but he could act as part of a liason. And he guessed exactly who would be the other. The agent in the case.

When Lance found Hodgins, he was leaning over a table, as though on a quick break. Lance walked quickly up to him and grabbed his arm, before Jack grabbed his hand and pushed him away.

"What do you want, Sweets?"

"How the _hell _are you treating this like any other case, Doctor Hodgins? You do realize that one of us is dying, correct?"

The bug and slime expert looked up and raised a brow.

"Be objective, professional. Don't let personal feelings get into the way of the case."

"This _is _personal, Doctor Hodgins. This is as personal as Pelant going into your house. That's the godmother of your son. That is your wife's best friend. How are you being so cool about this?"

"The instant that professional and personal get interlocked, things get messy. Things start to blur. That's why those involved in a case are not allowed to be expert witnesses, why we had to drop our charges for the gravedigger."

"Will you listen to yourself! Don't you care? She could be DYING!"

"Of course I care you fucking idiot! What the hell do you think?" he turned on a heel, and in the move a glass beaker fell to the ground. Neither attempted to move or clean it up. Simply staring into each others eyes, as though daring the other to make another move.

"Dr. Brennan is my friend. My companion. We were buried alive together. I would give my life for that women as quickly as I would for a sister or brother! And if she was here, she would be scolding our asses for wasting this much time already! You think I don't _feel_ enough? Try being in that hospital, watching my wife and friend cry tears for her. Try looking at her face and knowing, statistically, there is no reason that she should be alive! That the chances of her coming out, are slim to none! Try that! And then try coming back to the lab, where there are constant reminders of our work. Her blood is on the floor. Did you here me? _Her blood is on the floor, _Sweets. There is so much blood. Its caked to the ground. And if she dies? We're going to see that spot and think, what if? What if we'd been there sooner? What if?

"And yet I came here. I came back to where I was most needed. Not because it feels good. Not because I enjoy the thoughts of a women I consider very much like a sister dying without as many people by her side as possible. But because I know Doctor B. And I know she'll pull through. And I also know that that damn killer needs to be caught, and we're the only ones good enough to do it.

"So yes, I do care. I care way to fucking much. And if she dies, I will never forgive myself for not being there with my wife, and with Booth. But we have to be objective. You miss things, otherwise."

Silence pour through the lab as though they were in a cave, echos crying out before fading away, silence ebbing on their conversation as the two stared at each other. And when Sweets looked away, Hodgins didn't feel the usual accomplishment that he would have felt. He patted him on the back.

"You were right, Doctor Hodgins. I'm sorry,"

He sighed and looked around the lab.

"We aren't doing any good sitting around. Come on. Let's go look for evidence."

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**This turned out longer then I'd expected…And on top of that, this is only part 1 of this chapter! So Whooo! I've just got a ton of muse for this. Have fun reading! Reviews are nice and I thank everyone for them!**


	5. I Hurt Too, Part 2

**I don't own Bones! Much love and thanks for the reviews, everyone!**

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_People say you only live once. But people are as wrong about that as they are about everything_

The sound of an engine turning off was heard along the streets. It wasn't surprising. There were always cars leaving that driveway, a constant stream. It seemed as though there was never peace there, in that house, a house that had originally been so damaged that no one would buy it. A man is seen leaving the truck, stretching. If you were to look at his face, you would see the exhausted shadows under his eyes. If you watched the way he walked, you would see a slight hobble, as though he were about to topple over from over exertion at any moment. Perhaps when you first looked at him, you would think him ill. Or perhaps you would think he had just run into a bad spout of luck.

You'd be right.

He thinks people are at home, so he doesn't get out a key. However, when he realizes he needs to get into the house, he simply assumes his child and its caregiver are sleeping. Upon opening it, you can here his voice travel.

"Christine? Sweets?"

Its an empty house. His voice carries throughout it, echoing on the walls, the picture frames vibrating with his voice. He tries again, this time louder, but to no avail. For a moment, his heart skips a beat as he runs frantically through the house, a million scenarios going through his head. He goes out into their garage, where Sweets car has been taken out, and he looks around for Christines baby seat. It's not logical to be afraid, because they likely just went out. He doesn't even think to check the counter, which has a nice note on it.

Instead, he speeds to the telephone and calls Sweets number. On the third ring, it picks up.

"Hello?"

"Sweets! Where the hell are you?"

"At the Jeffersonian…I figured it would be best…Christine's in day care, Booth. I left you a note,"

"You didn't think to CALL ME?"

"You were in ICU. There was no reason you should have picked up."

As logical as this reasoning is, he still feels angry at the man. He could have left a message. Anything!

""Look, it makes sense that you're worried. Your wife is in the hospital, it only makes sense that you would worry about-"

"Don't talk like that."

"Like what, Agent Booth?"

"Like her! Don't talk like she does! Damn it! I don't want a logical explanation! Just stop it!" he snarled at the phone before slamming it shut and throwing it on the floor. The front covering exploded on the hard wood floor, glass everywhere. Exhausted, he simply fell to the floor and covered his face with his hands, body shaking for dry sobs.

Why was this so hard?

So damned hard…

He heard the home phone ring, but ignored it. Instead, he sat on the ground, body quivering for what seemed like hours. He was exhausted. Just wanted to sleep for a couple of hours, and maybe everything would be good. Maybe it would all fade away with the wind.

_He needed her._

Everything was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. None of it was supposed to be this way.

_No, the ancient Greek philosopher. His theory was that humans originally consisted of four arms, four legs, and two faces. Zeus was threatened by their power and split them all in half; condemning us all to spend our lives trying to complete ourselves._

Soul mate. Being a part of one another. Two things can not, as she'd told him, occupy the same space. But they can try. And that was the important thing. That they try to get as close as they can.

He heard the door open, but for once in his life he didn't care about protecting this place, protecting anything. Whoever was in here could take what they wanted. He didn't care. It wasn't until he felt strong arms wrapped around him that he realized that it wasn't a burglar.

"You're going to be fine, Booth. I promise,"

"Max?"

The sudden realization that Bones father was here simply made him weep more. They didn't enjoy each others presence. In fact, they may have hated each other for a time. Yet, this man was comforting him, coaxing him up.

"I'll clean this, alright? You get ready. We'll go see Christine. Then we'll see Tempe. It'll be alright, Booth. I promise," he stated, his voice much stronger then Booth had believed it could be.

Booth looked up and started to help, but Max waved him away.

"I cleaned up so many messes. You don't even know, Booth," he'd smile and point to his car. "Go. I'll be in the front in ten minutes."

Booth slowly made his way out and slouched into the seat, looking out the window like a puppy who wanted to go home. When Max came in and started the ignition, Booth kept looking away.

"It'll be alright, son."

Booth felt wetness crawling down his face.

* * *

_You love someone, you open yourself up to suffering, that's the sad truth. Maybe they'll break your heart, maybe you'll break their heart and never be able to look at yourself in the same way. Those are the risks._

_How are we friends? We're nothing alike._

_What? You don't want to be friends anymore?_

That fight keeps playing in Angela's mind as she sits there. She doesn't sit in complete stillness, nor does she wiggle constantly. She's there, but she's not. Occasionally, she'll draw. She'll pick up her pencil and she'll draw what she see's, or she'll draw a picture of Brennan as she remembers her. Leaning over a lab table, one strand of hair in her eyes.

She draws magnification gear once, but it doesn't look right. She doesn't throw it, but wonders whether or not she should keep it with her stuff. It seems tainted, wrong. So much unlike the Brennan she knew.

They shouldn't have been friends. It didn't make sense.

Brennan was trapped in the past, in death. Angela looked at the present, never to the future, never to the past. She thought of fun. The idea of these two being friends was…Unlikely, in the least.

At first, she'd only been at the Jeffersonian for money. Brennan had been surprisingly nice despite the way others at the Jeffersonian treated her. Angela had used to go to lunch, until a particularly attractive male managed to catch her in conversation.

'How'd you score a job here?'

'Brennan hired me…I remodel faces.'

The man had snorted and shook his head.

'Ice queen hired you? Trust me, you'll get fired soon.'

And this had been her fear for a while, but for some reason, it seemed as though Brennan either wasn't threatened by her or simply valued what she did. At first, she thought it was because Bren didn't think she was smart enough. However, when she asked, Brennan shook her head.

'Yes, I'm very intelligent. But not like you, Miss Montenegro.'

'What do you mean?'

'Drawing is an art that I could never quite get my hands on. Poetry, art, its necessary for a complex society. It means that we have moved from things such as simply hunting and gathering. It shows complexity. It's a different way of thinking.'

'You're an artist, Brennan…You write.'

'Yes, I suppose…But I'm not an artist in the same way you are,' she replied, before walking away.

They'd known each other for six months when Angela found out about her life. She hadn't read the file, hadn't looked at her past. She knew something had happened, but it wasn't until Christmas that things really stirred up.

She'd come with antler ears knocking on her door.

'Come on Bren. Glug glug time, baby! Party time! You and I both know you can't work all day.'

Brennan hadn't answered, so Angela simply helped herself in.

'Come on, Bren! We've gotta get going!'

She looked around until she saw her friend in her bedroom, holding a pillow. Angela made her way to her and shook her lightly.

'Bren? What's wrong?'

'Why does everyone else get to be happy, Ang? Why not me?'

The words had struck her in several ways. It seemed impossible that Brennan WASN'T happy. She'd never had a breakdown before, and this was something that made her flinch.

'What do you mean, Sweetie? What happened? Was it Peter?'

'No…I just…I miss my mom and dad, Angela…And Russ…I miss him,'

This was the first hide tail sound she'd heard from her friend. She smelled alcohol on her breath, and perhaps that was why she was such a blubbering mess.

'Then…Why don't you call them, Sweetie? It's almost Christmas. I'm sure they'd love to hear from you.'

'No you don't….You don't understand…'

The entire story spilled out then, and Angela had to close her eyes and keep herself composed. When it was all done, Bren was leaning heavily on her and her tears were wet on her cloths. Angela moved a strand of hair from her eyes.

'You have me, Sweetie. I promise.'

Later, when she'd become less drunk and more hung over, Brennan would make her way to her own couch, where Angela was sitting, and sit next to her.

'I'm sorry…I ruined your day.'

'Don't worry about it, Sweetie.'

'Can you not tell anyone?' she asked suddenly before blinking. 'I mean, please? I don't…Want anyone to know.'

'You can talk about it, you know. I promise. No one will judge you.'

'No…I have a job to do…But please…Don't tell anyone.'

'Don't worry about it…I won't tell anyone. Just…Be careful, alright?'

'I trust you, Angela…I really do. Please, don't…'

The words hung in the air, and Angela could feel them in the present, as she reached over and brushed a piece of hair from her friends face.

"I won't abandon you, sweetie. I promise."

* * *

_The thought of losing so much control over personal happiness is unbearable. That's the burden. Like wings, they have weight, we feel that weight on our backs, but they are a burden that lifts us. Burdens that allow us to fly._

Two men make their way back from the Jeffersonian, where a child lay silently sleeping.

They go to the hospital, where a young woman moves and hugs the older male. She says that she'll go get coffee, but in reality she'll be gone for much longer then a couple of minutes.

She knows how important the woman in the bed is to these two men, and she's always treasured space.

A mile away, a woman works on the body of a big man, his chest exposed. She takes a moment to turn away and bow her head, because her thoughts are at the hospital, not at this institution.

She leaves the room for a moment, needing air, and on the way out passes a man who is hard at work on a piece of metal. He looks at it carefully, though every few seconds he checks his phone, checking for good or bad news. When he realizes neither are coming, he pockets his phone for the fifteenth time that night.

Only a few steps away is a psychologist who is talking with a young woman. The woman suggests a cocky poise that we have yet to see today, and yet the man seems slightly more comfortable with her then he is awkward. He glances over at the metal man and the woman who was working on the body, and he wonders whether or not he should be doing something for them instead of being with this woman.


	6. Angels to Fly

**Heya guys! So I'm updating again. Let me know how I'm doing if you'd like ^^ I'm going to try and reply to some reviews this weekend, so don't worry, I didn't forget about you! Anyways, you know the drill. I don't own Bones. If I did, well, ya know…I don't think it'd turn out the way we know it, haha!**

* * *

_It's okay….You still see it…I don't._

_It's best to just focus on facts…And don't refer to the victim by their name._

It was seven o'clock at night when she woke up.

Booth was sitting on the edge of his seat, praying silently, hoping she'd come out of this sleep, and Max was getting coffee. In reality, he was pacing, trying to make sure Booth didn't notice his own awkwardness, his own fears. His own hurt.

Angela had gone back to the lab. Every half hour, she'd text Booth, asking for confirmation that everything was alright. Every half hour, he'd reply back, Yeah, it's just the same, not much else you can do, Ange.

They were working, and he was here, and while he felt the urge to go kill the idiot who had fucked with him and the love his life, he wasn't going to leave her.

He was afraid. This was one thing that he would not admit to anyone. He wasn't afraid of her not waking up. No, he knew she could do that. He knew she was capable of that and more. He wasn't afraid of her having any disability or permanent injury. No, she was too stubborn for that. What he was afraid of that she'd wake up more broken, afraid, alone and terrified then she'd been the day he'd met her.

She'd be more cold then the day he'd first met her.

_And do your best to make your mom happy…Because if she's alone, she's going to forget_

Was she alone in there? Or was she dreaming like he had? Was she trapped? Or happy to be away?

The sound of a low moan alerted him and made him look up immediately. The turn of her head made him jerk up to his feet, grab her hand, because what else could he do? He was afraid to touch her face, afraid the paper thin covering of her skin would cave in. Yet, he felt so ecstatic. All he wanted to do was dive into her, kiss her, love her, tell her how much he missed her, needed her, _loved _her.

Tell her again and again oh how sorry he was for the fight.

When she opened her eyes, he looks into them, and for the longest time they're trapped there, trapped in each others loving gaze, only disrupted by her voice, and even then, he took ultimate pleasure in it's sound. It's rough, it's ragged, but it's her, and he loved the sound of her voice. It meant she was still alive.

The total exhaustion in her voice took him aback, but he remembered how it felt to be shot, and he listened to her worries, and smiled softly.

"That happens…You lost a lot of blood," he whispered.

"No…Cold…At the wound site." She contradicted, contradicted as always, and he felt himself stumbling for an explanation, yet he can't find one.

She isn't scared, and this is the one thing that he took for a great light. She wasn't scared. And that meant she was still his Bones, still his love, still his life, and he could be with her till the end of time.

Her father entered the door and for a second, Booth cursed this man. Why should he be allowed to split into his time with her, with his Bones? And his words, they cut deep.

"You're heart stopped."

_Twice_

Is the word he thought of, but he doesn't speak, only scolds the old man for saying this to her in her state. For a moment, a flash of fear comes through her eyes, and confusion, a look not often seen on the woman. But it fades away with her question.

"How long…Until my heart started beating again?"

"Two minutes….You were dead for two minutes,"

And she sighed and leaned back, exhaustion taking over her like a brick.

Booth left for only a moment, and called the lab promptly.

"Ange….She's awake,"

"She is? Is she…"

"Yeah, she's fine…Tired…You're gonna want to wait a while. You mind coming in a little later and keeping her company? I need to take Christine home…I want to stay the night but,"

"Christine. I'll keep Bren company until visiting hours are done. And I'm sure Hodgins will come tomorrow."

"Thanks, Ange,"

"No problem, Studly…Do me one favor, will you?"

"What's that?"

"Keep taking care of yourself…You aren't any good to her sick,"

He ended the call then, and slumped against the wall, before pushing himself back up and going into the room, kissing the woman's forehead and sitting back down.

* * *

Perhaps it's the darker things that enlighten us. It's the bones of a human that bring her to her conclusions, the darkest part of a human being. It's the night that brings us the chance to love the morning. And its death which ultimately lets us enjoy life more thoroughly. For without the threat of death, why continue living in a world so full of corruption and pain?

And then there's the opposite theory. But I've never enjoyed that one.

It's in a mental institution that a young man by the name of Zack Addy hears about the shooting. It's in the paper. While he's locked up fairly well, he has connections, and he's smart. Always smart. It's not hard to get your hands on a paper with brains like his.

It was the woman that had taught Zack that reminded him that he, of all people, needed to be rational about this. But for once in his life, he feels logic deteriorate. This was the first person that ever understood him, ever allowed him peace, ever allowed him to do what he wanted and needed to do. She congratulated him on his intelligence, didn't belittle him. He knew about the child from Hodgins visits, though children weren't allowed in his part, he saw pictures and could only help but smile.

Zack was a smart lad. He knew what people said about him. But he'd never killed anybody. He couldn't.

He'd just given the information.

He wouldn't do well in jail.

He felt sick to his stomach when he read the news again, and blinked. Was she alive? Was she dead?

Wanting to call Hodgins, but having the inability to, he simply laid back and tried to think as logically as possible about what he could do.

Everything seemed like too much.

Every thing seemed like too little.

For the first time in his life, Zack felt trapped.

* * *

**Soo, help time. Would you guys be interested in A Bren/Zack chapter? It'd be quick, probably, and I don't know exactly when it would happen, but I figured I'd leave it up to you guy. Since he escaped once, I can't imagine it would be terribly difficult to do it again, but if there's no interest, then this would be the furthest I'd probably go with him, just a short reaction. Let me know! Read and review, if you'd like!**


	7. Because You're My Best Friend

**So here it is! As always, I don't own Bones! Any and all reviews are much appreciated! Mucho love! Have a grand day!**

* * *

_I'm not a sociopath, Booth._

_It's just…You aren't very good with people, Bones._

Exhaustion was so heavy on her, she didn't want to move. Yet it seemed so important to stay awake that the mere idea of falling asleep, a usually rational thought, seemed suddenly irrational. She was afraid to stay asleep. Because if she slept, she was half afraid she would fall back and see her.

Her mom…

No, her mind had made it up. She was stressed out. It was a perfectly rational reaction to being shot.

The mind tries to process what the body can't.

Simple science.

It'd been recorded for centuries.

So there was no reason to be afraid of sleep.

Yet, as she lay there, watching Angela sketch and look up every once in a while, she felt her eyes drop more than once or twice.

"Sweetie…You need to sleep. Do you want me to go so you can rest?"

"No, no, don't leave…Please," the women would beg, and the fear in her eyes would be so real that Angela would sigh and lean over, holding her hand for a few brief moments before scooting closer.

"You know, I'm not going anywhere. Cam gave me the rest of the day off. Theres nothing more for me to do. So relax. I'll be here. And soon, so will Booth,"

Max was currently trying to get a hold of Russ, though this seemed more like fiction then the dreams that Brennan had had. The boy wouldn't pick up his phone, and as far as Max knew, they could be camping in the mountains with no chance of coming down any time soon.

Angela's word's seemed to calm Brennan significantly, and sooner than later sleep won over. Angela chuckled softly, but didn't lose her promise. She stayed exactly where she'd been, sketching and nodding softly with each detail.

_Because you're my best friend, and I love you like a sister._

* * *

"God damn it Russ! Pick up the god damned-"

"What dad?"

The sudden response seemed to warrant a hiss from the older male, and he closed his eyes as though trying to calm himself, though in reality it was more of a surprise then something that warranted more of a reaction.

"Have you not gotten our fifteen hundred messages?"

"We just got home from the hospital, dad. Hayley's been there for a while…We shut off our phones for a while. What's the big rush? In trouble with the law again?"

This warrented an angry grunt, and the man almost debated shutting the phone and smashing it. However, he managed to compose himself.

"Don't you dare talk to me that way, Russ. Look, I'm sorry for you're situation but-"

"I'm not bailing you out, dad. And neither is Tempe. You know that as well as I do,"

"Russ! Will you shut up for one moment!"

The boy stayed silent then, and Max took in several breaths.

"You're sister is in the hospital, Russ,"

There was a moment of pause again, and then a harsh,

"What, exactly, did you just say?"

"Tempe. Is in. The hospital. Right now. She was shot, Russ. Do you understand the urgency now?"

"Is she okay? Dad, Jesus! What the hell happened?"

"We don't know yet, alright. So calm down. But I need you to come ASAP, kiddo."

"Right, right, no problem, dad. I'll be there by…"

Max sighed and looked at his watch.

"Just come as soon as you can. She's stable, she's awake. She just…She needs family, Russ."

"Right, right,"

The two didn't exchange pleasantries as they each hung up, and neither needed them.

* * *

Cam had come in a little after the call between Max and Russ. However, Max had decided to go check on Booth and Christine, make sure they were okay.

Angela was drawing and looking at the women every few moments, as though afraid that she would run away. She looked up when Cam came into the room, and smiled.

"She's been asleep for a little while,"

"You want to go get something to eat? I'll keep post for you,"

"No, no, I told Bren-"

"And I'll tell her you're still around. Don't worry. I don't need my staff falling from exhaustion," she offered, though the slight boss tone was still there. Angela's eyes trailed back to her friend when she got up, leaving the sketch book.

"Then she'll know I'm still-"

"I'm not going to leave her. Go," Cam sat down as though proving a point.

When Angela left, the doctor opened her eyes and looked at her boss slightly blurrily.

"That was extremely kind of you,"

Cam chuckled lightly and brought the chair back.

"They're going to kill themselves if they don't take breaks. She called Booth every thirty minutes while you were still out. She was worried sick,"

"Is that so?"

"Still is…We all are, Doctor Brennan."

This seemed to silence her for a while as she turned her head, the blurry look in her eyes never really fading.

"I heard you were in there…"

"Yes, well, it's my jo-"

"Thank you," she cut Cam off, looking at her seriously. For a moment, the women seemed shocked before she shook her head.

"It was really no problem, Dr. Brennan,"

"I'm unsure…I remember hearing you're voice. Once. Though, delirious as I was, perhaps I was incorrect,"

"What did I say?"

"You called me…You called me your friend. Though, obviously this is incorrect. You are, in fact, my boss. So delirium,"

Cam seemed shocked by the words and shook her head.

"No. I said that. I was worried,"

"And rightfully so. I'm the best you forensic anthropologist in my-"

"No, not because of that. Though, you are good. You've grown on me, Dr. Brennan. You really have,"

For a moment confusion comes onto her face.

"I don't know what that means,"

Cam laughs and shakes her head.

"It means I've grown fond of you, Brennan,"

The lack of "Doctor" in the name surprises them both, though in any case neither say anything. While out of exhaustion or something else, something more powerful, neither could understand or know.

Both stay silent before Brennan begins to fall asleep again. When Angela comes in, they both sit across from the women asleep and speak softly.

Neither talk of the case, instead they speak their own worries. Worries for the women, worries for her significant other, worries for the team. Worries for the future.

And sooner or later, both come to the same conclusion.

Things would work out.

They had to.


	8. You okay?

**Short one but I just saw this scene again and had to write it out from a more emotional perspective. I'll write some Jack/Angela comforting in the next chapter, along with all protective Booth, some Russ, all that fun stuff. A lot of people didn't like the scene with Ange and Brennan, though I kind of liked it. I couldn't imagine the pain of actually seeing your best friend heart stop before you're eyes...Especially when you're like Angela, much more vulnerable then the rest of the squints. So I'm going to try and keep up some reactions on this. It was shorter but hopefully a nice little taste for the next chapter. As always, I don't own Bones!**

* * *

It seemed as though the very highlight of Angela's day's were now occupied by visiting her best friend. It was also the very lowlight.

Agent Sparling had visited twice, mainly for questioning. And each time had simply made Brennan feel more useless. She wanted to get up and help, to get up and fight whatever had happened, but she could barely lift her head anymore.

Once a day, Angela would take over Booths post and force him to go home, get some rest, sleep off the long day. Hodgins would come in and once they had snuck Christine in. The sound of the baby's cry made Brennan smile contently as she held her hand out for the baby. The child reached with her fingers for her mother, whimpering "Ma" a couple of times, before giving up and looking at everyone. Angela didn't want to let the baby down-She feared her friend may be injured more.

"She's a baby, Ange, she isn't going to hurt me,"

"She's a baby, Bren…She doesn't understand how not to hurt people," she replied, then cradled the child, who looked back at her mom longingly.

It was a couple days in when they finally let her take off that damned air tube, and Ange couldn't help but realize how oh so tired and sick Bren looked. It was as though she hadn't slept in days, and Angela couldn't resist but go up to her friend and embrace her. Brennan looked up confused.

"I question exactly what you're doing, Ange…A sign of affection?"

"Yes, a sign of affection…You almost died, Bren."

"You and Booth…Don't look so worried. I'm fine, Ange. I promise, I'm feeling better,"

"Don't lie to me, Bren,"

"It isn't a lie if it's true, Ange," she replied, though when she leaned back and held out her hand for her friend, Angela took it and sighed.

"I really wish you were more careful,"

"I was at the lab…Isn't that where you and Booth want me?"

"Yeah, but you catch murders. You should have called me, I would have been there-"

"And then you would have been shot too…It's okay, Ange," Brennan replied and smiled. She frowned for a moment and rubbed her eyes.

Angela was looking down at her lap, trying to compose the many feelings running through her veins. It felt as though Brennan wasn't taking this seriously, but Angela knew that she was. It was hard for Brennan to take anything unserious.

"I had my magnification headgear on, so I couldn't see him…Has the FBI found anything yet?"

Angela felt a chuckle rise in her chest as she looked up at Brennan, but that faded away with the look on her friends face. Dark circles were around her eyes, she was unbearably pale, she looked half emancipated…She shouldn't be worrying about the case right now.

"It's you're job to recover…It's everyone elses to figure out who shot you," she replied, though the words felt dry in her mouth. Shot…It was hard to think of that right now.

Brennan looked suddenly dejected as she looked down, though it didn't look as though she were going to object.

"Did you know," she asked, trying to bring Brennan into the picture at least a little. "that when someone fires a tazer it lets out confetti?"

"Yes,"

Who in the world would know that other then Brennan?

"Sparling and Sweets found confetti at the victims apartment,"

"They went to the victims house…Tazed him…"

"Killed him…Grouts heart gave out,"

The realization didn't strike Brennan like she figured it would. Instead, Brennan's face recoiled in pain as she gasped.

"Whoa, Brennan, are you okay?"

"I feel…"

Angela felt panicked, but she wasn't about to let that show.

"What…Pain?"

"I feel wonderful…"

The realization of what that could mean immediately took her as soon as the sound of the machine gave in. A loud, long, beep…

"Brennan!"

She shot up, looking back at her friend. Slouched over, totally out, no this was not a mistake, god where was the nurse!

"Brennan! Hey, we need a nurse! Help!"

She called desperately. The sound of a nurse coming in and another ushering her out made Angela's heart rate pick up. In fact, it felt as though her heart had picked up the beats that Brennan's were missing.

Slouching into a chair, she watched as the nurses and doctor did their work, totally numb, until a weak sob escaped her lips and she buried her head in her hands.

No one was around to comfort her this time.

She couldn't bare to call Booth.

Nor Jack.

What if her friend died?

Was that her fault?

_There is no singular event, Angela…Yes, I promise. With my heart. You WILL get another chance._


	9. MarcoPolo

**I'm so sorry it took so long to update! I said I would this weekend, though, so I did, and made it a little longer. As always, I don't own Bones. Thanks to everyone!**

* * *

"Hey, Ange. Just calm down. She's fine," Hodgins assured her, kissing his wife softly on the forehead and looking at her. She'd had tears running down her face for a long while, and Hodgins was desperately trying to calm her down while also doing his job, a rather difficult thing to juggle between.

"I'm scared, Jack…"

"I know. It's okay. We'll get this guy,"

Angela's gaze wandered over to the liquid nitrogen and her eyes widened.

"What are you doing, Jack?"

"You remember the ice bullet? Well, what about a blood bullet?" he asked, his eyes gleaming in satisfaction.

* * *

When Russ finally got to DC with Amy and the girls, he'd gotten about twenty calls from Dad. His heart had picked up with a large amount of fear when he heard what his father had said.

"Tempe's had a reaction, Russ. She hasn't woken up yet,"

Each call was a variation with more and more anger put into each and every update.

"Get your ass down here, Russ! You taking the scenic route?"

He mumbled something under his breath as he drove, something in which he didn't want either of his girls to hear and which caused Amy to shoot him a dark look. When he'd finally pulled into the hospital parking lot and gotten out, he cracked his back before they all walked in.

He was about to make his way to the room which his father had instructed him to go to, when he literally ran into Max. Luckily, he had yet to get anything to drink and was simply frustrated by the sudden violent contact.

"Watch where you're-" he cut off suddenly when he realized it was his son and his eyes suddenly lit up. "Russ. Thank god,"

"Why aren't you with Tempe?"

Max closed his eyes and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"She's awake,"

Russ felt a huge amount of pressure on his chest be relieved, and his muscles suddenly calmed down. When Amy and the girls finally made their way over, Hayley let out a squeal and ran towards Max, clinging to his leg.

"Grandpa Max! You're here!"

He smiled and ruffled the younger girls hair before looking at Amy and smiling. The smile seemed to take the stress from Amy as well and she smiled back, before asking sudden questions about Brennan. After getting them all answered, Russ asked if they could go and see her. Max was about to respond when Booth walked out, waving at them and walking over, though his attention was obviously placed mostly on the room to the back of him. He kept turning his head, almost eager to run back.

"She's sleeping. You might want to come by later," he offered, not unkindly, before both Hayley and Emma hugged him tightly. He chuckled and smiled at them, but he was still itching to go back and see Brennan. When Russ saw this, he cleared his throat.

"Why don't we get something to eat and then come back?" he suggested. Everyone seemed okay with this, and Booth gave directions to a good diner in town. When they all left, Max included, Booth sighed a sigh of relief and walked back to the room, where he held Brennan's hand once more and thanked his god for saving her once more.

* * *

Russ and everyone else came back later, minus Max, who stated that he needed to get Christine from daycare. Something in Booth tugged, the sudden need to be with his child, but he also knew that if he left, he'd be thinking of no one but Brennan. She was awake, though groggy, when everyone migrated in.

Sleepily, Brennan looked up and smiled at the group, even though her heart sunk slightly when she saw Russ. Had Russ heard from Dad about her dream? And then there was the resemblance to Mom that filled her with grief. She tried to put it aside. When all of the nicesties were exchanged, Hayley came up shyly and asked softly,

"Hey, Auntie Temperance? You know how you always read to me when I was in the hospital?"

How could she forget? She'd been afraid, then, even though she'd barely known the child. She'd managed to find a source of peace when she was there, like maybe she was doing something for the living, for her niece, instead of the dead. She nodded, wondering where this was going.

"Well, see, I brought a book for you…I was wondering if I could read it to you?" she asked. Brennan was shocked, to say the least, but she nodded. Hayley gently climbed up and looked at her with a tilt of her head.

"You get used to all those machines really fast. It's weird, isn't it?"

Nodding, Brennan ignored the tug on her heart. No child should have to know that fact.

While Hayley tried her best not to disrupt Brennan, Brennan couldn't ignore the coursing reminder of pain that made it's way on her chest, and once even let out a small whimper. Russ almost came and lifted Hayley off when Brennan shook her head. Leave her be, she begged with her eyes. Which Russ did.

After starting the story, it took only about ten minutes for Brennan to fall asleep from mere exhaustion, and then Hayley to fall asleep right next to her. Russ stayed with them while Amy and Emma both went to get something to snack on, and when Hayley finally awoke, he asked her and Booth to go find Amy and Emma and tell them to get ready. While Booth looked at Brennan in slight panic, Russ pleaded with his eyes. Please. Just let me have some time alone with her.

Booth gave in and asked Hayley if she wanted to come with him. She nodded and got up slowly, trying not to disturb Brennan. While Brennan tried to pretend she was still sleeping, the flinching and the small pained gasp that came from her was enough to tell Russ that she had a long, long way to go.

"You gotta stop scaring us like this, Tempe," Russ joked lightly, taking his little sisters hand and looking her in the eyes when she finally opened them.

"Sorry," she croaked, and tried to clear her voice. Russ smiled and brushed some of her hair from her forehead.

"You've been in the hospital way too many times in your life,"

"One of them was your fault," she countered, though that wasn't entirely true, and they both knew it.

"Hey, I was sixteen. You were twelve. You know how hard to handle you were at twelve?"

"I wasn't that bad," she countered, and Russ let out a large laugh.

"No?"

"No,"

"Take care of her, Russ, Mom said. And I said of course. And then she told you to keep your nose clean, and then Mom and Dad left for the night for some fancy dinner,"

"I was never supposed to climb trees…"

"No, but we went to the park, and you saw that nest, and you just had to go up there. And I didn't see the harm. So I told you, sure, Tempe, climb the tree. I'll catch you if you fall,"

"You didn't think I'd actually fall, did you?"

"No, not really."

"But I did,"

"You always had crappy hand eye cordnation,"

She didn't counter this and simply smiled at the memory.

"And I slipped. I didn't think you'd actually catch me,"

"But I did,"

"Yeah. And you broke two ribs and your arm. And I broke my leg,"

"You were so damned stubborn! 'I can walk, Russ, I'm fine,'. 'Cept you were't,"

"Neither were you,"

"So I carried you to the car, and you were being so stubborn, I can walk, I can walk, you have a broken rib, Russ, let me down.' And all I was thinking about was getting you to the freaking ER before Mom and Dad found out,"

"We had to call them when we got there, remember?"

"Yeah. Dad was fuming, but then you started crying and he just melted in your arms. Daddy's little girl,"

"That night sucked,"

"Mom was pissed," was Russ's last comment before he grinned and tilted his head. Brennan's smile instantly fell when she nodded and looked at her hands. Russ noticed immediately and tilted his head. "What's wrong, Temperance?"

Brennan was silent for a long time before she looked up and shrugged.

"I…Saw her. Twice. When I was…" Russ filled in the last part of the sentence and nodded.

"She still look okay?" he asked, because he knew that his sister didn't believe in any of the religious stuff. He wouldn't bring it up. Today was not the day for confrontation. He'd almost lost his baby sister.

"She looked…Happy…" Brennan said, happy that Russ hadn't said anything about the supernatural. Russ closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his sisters hand before looking back into her eyes.

"I know you fought with her. Before they left. I was so pissed at you because you were ruining Christmas for all of us. I was home for the first time in months and then all I heard was arguing. But when they left…It wasn't your fault, Tempe. They'd been planning it for a long time,"

Brennan nodded, and for some reason her eyes were becoming cloudy with tears.

"Look, Tempe, I gotta go. But you have to know…I love you. So, so much. And I will never blame you. So keep your head up," he stated, before kissing her on the forehead.

Right before he was about to leave he turned his head a little.

"Marco,"

"Polo," she responded, with no hesitation.


	10. Coming home

**Last one. Thanks to everyone for the continued support, and sorry it was so short. Thank you all! As always, I don't own bones. **

* * *

"Whoa. Easy there, Bones," Booth stated as Brennan tried to lift herself out of her bed by herself and almost toppled over. Angela was looking at the two of them, shaking her head in disbelief at the no-hesitation look that was on Brennan's face. Booth pushed his head under her arm and helped her to the chair, where she complained rather loudly.

"Booth. I can walk," she moaned, though she flinched as she said it. Booth shook his head.

"No. You are walking no where. You were shot, Bones. A week ago. We're going home and I'm going to cater to your every move,"

"You didn't let me do this when you were shot,"

Booth shot her a look and then shook his head. After several more complaints from Brennan, they were out of the hospital room. Only moments later, next to their car. Brennan looked at the huge truck and intensely started to get up. Letting out a hiss, she lowered herself back down.

"Don't be so headstrong, Bones. Let me help,"

"No. I should be able to, at this point-"

"Rest, Bones. I got you," he stated, giving her a hand to make sure she didn't feel totally helpless. After a long while of hesitation and grunts of pain, Brennan was in the truck, leaning against the headrest and panting heavily.

"That was e…Excellent cardio," she tried stating joyfully, but it came out grumbled. His heart ached for her when he saw the amount of pain she was in, but he wasn't sure what else he could do about it.

Kissing her forehead, he went back to the truck and drove back home, occasionally casting glances at Brennan.

"We'll have pain meds at home," he stated sympathetically. She nodded, tensely, not really listening. "I know you don't like them, but it'll help."

"They make me feel increasingly dumb," she stated. Booth chuckled.

"I'll need you dumbed down to deal with you this week. Work with me, Bones. Please?"

She nodded, hesitantly. Speaking up again, she tilted her head.

"Do you…Think I could hold Christine when we get home? I miss her," she stated. She'd gotten to see the girl, but it did little to appease her need. Booth hesitated.

"Bones…I'm not sure. Didn't she hurt you last time?"

Brennan shook her head angrily at the idea, and let out a hiss once more. Booth flinched at the sound but stood his ground.

"Temperance…You need to heal,"

He used her first name so rarely that it made her flinch as well, but she shrugged.

"Christine will do nothing to harm the process, Booth. I don't see why-"

"She's a baby, Bones. She crawls. Look, I'll bring her to our room and we can all watch a movie in there, okay? I just don't want you hurt."

Brennan subdued to this. Finally they pulled into their driveway. Booth helped Brennan to the house, opened the door and then let her sit down for a while. Max was in the living room, holding a bubbly Christine. Seeing his daughter, Max grinned happily and waved.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?"

Brennan smiled slightly, exhaustion evident in her eyes.

"Tired, but alright. Is she okay?"

"Missing her mom. But otherwise, yes. Okay,"

Booth came over to her before letting her drape her arm around his neck, while they slowly made their way to their room. Twice Brennan had to stop to catch her breath, leaning heavily on Booth. Both times, he waited before proceeding up again. Finally making it to their room, he laid her on the bed and told her to sleep.

"Christine…" she mumbled. Booth smiled and kissed her again.

"Later. First you sleep,"

She was about to protest when sleep overcame her without her permission. She slept for two hours, finally waking up when sudden pain tore through her chest. Luckily, Booth was there with pills and water, holding her until the pain subsided. When it finally did, he offered to bring up their daughter, which she happily agreed to.

Laying there for lord knows how long, Booth finally left to use the restroom. He instructed, rather harshly, for her not to let Christine crawl on her. However, as soon as he left, she absently took the little girl in her arms and patted down her hair.

"Christine," she breathed out, closing her eyes. How close she'd been to leaving her…How close she'd been to losing her…

"Mama!" Christine stated happily, nuzzling into her mothers shoulder. Feeling warmth in her body, she smiled without realizing it.

"I won't leave you, baby. Okay? I promise. I won't ever leave you,"

Brennan knew the child couldn't possibly understand. Instead, the infant noticed the tone of her mothers voice, one she associated with love and garbled happily once more.

"Mama!"

When Booth came in, it wasn't his daughter in Bones' arms that he first noticed. It was the tears running down her face.


End file.
